u/getitoffmychestpleas

Because for me, it sucks ass. My body is changing in ways I can't comprehend, I'm withered, exhausted and unattractive, I could care less about sex, ditto about which university your kids are going to or the latest war or any "news", and life is only going to get tougher from here. I'm so tired of trying to find info and support for my aches and pains only to be met with "I've never felt sexier/healthier/more active in my entire life thanks to (some stupid trendy drink or shot or cream or suppository)". I hate this. I still feel 25 years old inside this ancient saggy flesh sack but all evidence points toward me being a miserable old hag.

I lost so many years to loneliness and shame. I want to re-parent myself but it seems so daunting.

No, I'm not paying $1,700 to find out that I am definitively on the spectrum, I already know that I am. And I'm definitely not paying a few more grand after that for an "in-depth exploration". Give me a break.

I've been able to make some crazy connections. Found birth mothers and fathers despite sealed adoption records, found actual birthdates versus lifelong false ones (women really tried to hide their ages!), discovered affairs and imprisonments, all kinds of neat stuff. And it occurred to me that while I will never know everything, my own ancestors would be surprised at some of what I've found about their own parents and grandparents.

I always knew that no one would choose to suffer like I do, but I was so busy beating myself up for not fitting in and all the rejection by my peers (and of myself) that I forgot about self-compassion. I do belong somewhere, it's just not a place I had looked before.

I'm on the spectrum.

There is no need to punish myself, to fight against this thing I was born with, to feel ashamed for my differentness. There was never any need for it. It's not my fault.

It isn't all bad. There are gifts that come along with it. And I'm not the only one. There are other people like me. I can't believe it.

WTF? I'm finding myself looking forward to listening to specific operas or fugues while I clean. While I clean my house of my own free will. I've taken a liking to phrases like "taken a liking to". I adore black licorice, ginger candies, half-cooked egg yolk. I'M MORPHING INTO AN OLD PERSON WITHOUT MY CONSENT.

Anyone else? You've got the bills covered, you take decent care of your health, your life is fairly safe and predictable - because you know your limits. But then there's this feeling of wasted potential; some shame when you watch your peers or even people much younger than you moving up up up because they're talented and able and can network; seeing families grow over the years with relatively happy, healthy, well-adjusted kids and grandkids (when you opted out of that because you knew you weren't cut out for parenting).

I've made a lot of good decisions for myself based on my limitations, but my life does feel limited. Not many connections, won't leave much of a mark. Not sure what the point of it all is.

Anyone else? You've got the bills covered, you take decent care of your health, your life is fairly safe and predictable - because you know your limits. But then there's this feeling of wasted potential; some shame when you watch your peers or even people much younger than you moving up up up because they're talented and able and can network; seeing families grow over the years with relatively happy, healthy, well-adjusted kids and grandkids (when you opted out of that because you knew you weren't cut out for parenting).

I've made a lot of good decisions for myself based on my limitations, but my life does feel limited. Not many connections, won't leave much of a mark. Not sure what the point of it all is.

Anyone else? You've got the bills covered, you take decent care of your health, your life is fairly safe and predictable - because you know your limits. But then there's this feeling of wasted potential; some shame when you watch your peers or even people much younger than you moving up up up because they're talented and able and can network; seeing families grow over the years with relatively happy, healthy, well-adjusted kids and grandkids (when you opted out of that because you knew you weren't cut out for parenting).

I've made a lot of good decisions for myself based on my limitations, but my life does feel limited. Not many connections, won't leave much of a mark. Not sure what the point of it all is.

I'm sort of stunned. I'm finding incredible stuff about my ancestors - the little shtetls they had to leave behind, assorted marriages and divorces, adoptions, kooky arrests, plus all kinds of photos and documents. I think it's all fascinating because we never knew any of this, but no one else in my family cares. They don't understand why it's important to me, and I don't understand why it's not to them.

It's always such a bleak reminder of how different I am, it's so lonely. They don't notice the things I do, they don't care about the things I do, and I'm done masking and pretending I don't care either. Their conversations are so boring, empty, void of substance, yet they're perfectly happy to keep talking about nothing. Happy with their Lululemon and their stupid coffee drinks, their new car with tinted windows and their upcoming trip. They're never present, never actually in the moment, they don't see the hawk that just flew overhead or the ladybug on the leaf, they just talk talk talk talk and I shrink shrink shrink shrink. I don't fucking care about your catch phrases or stupid trends. That's not what life is supposed to be (followed by me beating myself up for not being like them).

There's me, about five years old, and I can already see the sadness. Those hopeless little brown eyes, the struggle to smile, already knowing I'd lost my mother to the new stepfather (whose infantile needs trumped those of her own children and still do to this day), with no one's comforting arms or ears to go to. No one. Back then I had no words for depression, I just remember not wanting to wake up each morning. Now I look back at that little girl and I want to pick her up, rock her back and forth, caress her cheek, wipe her tears, and take her for a chocolate malt. To listen to her fears, assure her she wasn't alone, and beat the everloving shit out of two ignorant, useless parents who never valued what really mattered.

This is a "progress" post, not because I'm now perfectly well adjusted and full of a zest for life, but because I'm still alive somehow and now have a healthy amount of rage at them, and not against myself.

The looks I get when I simply point out a truth most people don't want to hear. It's the truth, why do they prefer fluffy garbage? In the long run reality is going to smack them upside the head regardless . . .

I always knew my family of origin was f***ed up, but digging deeper into my ancestry has illuminated generation after generation of people who probably had no business creating new generations! The number of estrangements, divorces, abandonments, suicides, arrests, and adoptions has me reeling. On the one hand, it's a huge relief to see that my "problems" aren't exclusively my problem. On the other, it's baffling to comprehend how and why people like this kept procreating. I've only been able to observe four living generations of my relatives, now I can get a glimpse into more than 100 years of dysfunction. Fascinating and horrifying all at once!

I'm old now, and she's ancient. We live hundreds of miles apart and are very LC. I can live my life how I want to, do what I want, be who I am. But I can't shake the shitty feelings I grew up with, even though my life is now in my own hands and has been for years. I've had enough therapy to understand Inner Child work and her narcissism and my depression. What I can't figure out is how to be OK within myself, just as I am. Is it her critical voice still in my head, or is it now MY OWN critical voice, or are the fears all true and I'm actually just an unlikable, difficult person???

I don't know how else to put it. I'm ashamed of my inability to connect with people. To understand office politics. To know when to speak and what to say, and when to just not. I'm torn between being proud that I'm not like most people (have you met them? So many idiots out there!) and being completely humbled by my dysfunction. I was the fastest, sharpest kid in school until about 7th grade. Now all I can do is watch others achieve things, create things, enjoy life, roll with it. I'm ashamed that the best I can do is just keep getting out of bed in the mornings and cover the bare minimum of daily tasks. I'm not a stupid person, I'm just frozen in this brain/body that overreacts to stimuli and can't regulate my own moods.

In Singapore they have apartment blocks with ground-floor community spaces. People of all ages could eat together (or not), have their coffee among company (or not), just have other humans around them (or not). Imagine a life where you aren't terrified of getting old and being virtually alone on this planet. Not everyone will fully understand one another, but we'd understand the pain of being ND, and that is a huge plus.

No friends from childhood. No friends from high school or college. No friends from jobs or hobbies. No friends at all. Family of origin blew apart (lifelong dysfunction and later politics finished it off), so no siblings, no nieces or nephews in my life. Just one very amazing husband who still seems to enjoy me somehow.

And come on, Isaac lived to 180 years old? How can anyone buy into these fairytales? I would love to have a soft place for my soul to land, to believe there is a loving godlike entity who knows who I am and actually gives a shit. But look around.

I have wiry fluff on my temples and can see my forehead through the center patch on my head now. I can't pin back the fluff, can't wear my hair down (too hot and muggy), can't chop it all off and still resemble a female, I'm just stuck with this stupid, stupid, wiry mass of what used to be enviable thick curls. I finally understand why balding men freak out and wear baseball hats or run off to Turkey.